


soon

by poisonrationalitie



Category: Counting On (TV) RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Religious Guilt, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29353677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrationalitie/pseuds/poisonrationalitie
Summary: Claire takes care of Justin after his wisdom teeth surgery. She just wants to help.
Relationships: Justin Duggar/Claire Spivey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	soon

**Author's Note:**

> The least I can hope for these two is that they do love each other and are genuinely happy together. They’re getting such the short end of the stick, rushed into marriage when they should be rushing at college.

Claire couldn’t help but to hesitate on the threshold of the boys room. Habit. She had spent many hours listening to lectures on the importance of guarding your heart, mingling mainly with other girls, and not entering a boys’ space, especially not a bedroom, not if they weren’t related to you. But now Claire had a sparkling rock on her finger and the assent of their parents; soon enough she and Justin  _ would  _ be family. In a year they could have a family of their own.  _You can go in_ ,  she reminded herself. She straightened up and entered.

The Duggars boys weren’t the cleanest of men, she suspected; she had brothers of her own and they’d never get away with that sort of mess. They’d never want that sort of mess, to be honest, and they were much younger than Justin and his brothers. Piles of dirty clothes rose to waist height, and chip packets carpeted the floor. A pair of muddy boots had been chucked onto an old mattress, staining the haphazard sheets thrown across it. She stepped over a crumpled page torn out from Deuteronomy as she headed for her fiancé. His bunk was the tidiest of all, though it said more about the time he’d spent in it prior to the last few days than it did his organisational habits. 

Very gently, she sat down on the bed, careful not to disturb him. Even that pulsed a thrill through her heart; sitting on a bed with a boy, even if you were to be married within the season, was still a no-no. Claire could recite the warnings. Couples grew too relaxed as the big day approached, Satan tried to lay the urge to sin in their hearts to spoil that moment at the altar, to sabotage their happy marriage. Great harm could come from imagining lying down next to him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing their noses together, falling asleep together. Claire took a deep breath, and a moment to control herself.  _ Don’t even think about it. You don’t want to do any of those things. Why on earth would you want to slide in under the blanket with him and have him pull you closer and kiss his poor swollen cheeks better and hold him tight?  _

Claire squeezed her eyes shut.  _Lord, relieve me of this lust_.  She set the tray down, and then turned her eyes to him once more. He was so cute when he slept. His steady deep breaths, his pale lashes fluttering against the cream freckles splashed across his cheeks, his hands in half-balled fists, like a baby. She wanted to squeeze him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to take care of him, more than anything. She wanted him to always be so peaceful. 

That wasn’t to be. She reached out and gently brushed his cheek, blond stubble rough on her fingertips.

“Justin,” she said softly. “Justin. You need some more medicine.” He stirred. Claire traced a circle on his cheek with her thumb. “Justin.”

“Claire?” he mumbled, mouth full of cotton wool and half-asleep. Her heart swelled. She could see it now - a thousand Sunday mornings with the glowing golden sun spilling through the blinds and Justin mumbling, whispering her name, rolling over beside her. His arm holding her close, his knee touching hers, feet entangled.  _ Claire. Claire. Claire.  _ She stole each way he said her name and kept them in the space between her heart and ribcage. She listened to it on drives to the store, in bed at night, in the shower. A laughing ‘ _Claire_ ’ , a yawning ‘ _Claire_ ’,  a cracked ‘ _Claire_ ’  murmured between sobs. 

“Tablet time,” she whispered. Now that he was awake, there was no risk of disturbing anyone. But  still,  she felt the need to stay quiet .  They weren’t doing anything wrong, she’d been given the okay to go up there so long as the door was kept open, but  _still_.  If one of his older brothers walked in, she would have died on the spot. Worse - if  _Jackson_ had walked in. Worse again - one of his sisters. Without a chaperone, it felt like free-falling. Just her and Justin, on his bunk, in his bedroom. Alone. A blush warmed her cheeks. 

Claire slipped the sheet from the box, and popped a tablet from it. 

“Woohoo,” Justin mumbled, rolling slightly. His shin brushed her back. She sucked in her breath.  _The door is open. We’re allowed to be here_. It’s okay.  She made herself focus on his healing. The swelling had gone down a bit, maybe. He was doing well, all things considered. 

“You might want to sit up,” she said gently. He groaned, and propped himself up on his elbows. Poor thing. He still had the ice packs wrapped around his face. She wanted to squeeze him in a tight hug. She might’ve, were they chaperoned, were her mother there to monitor. Claire thought if she hugged him now, in bed, limitless, she might not be able to stop. 

He gave her a sore sort of smile, and opened his palm. She pressed the tablet into it. Skin against skin. The warmth of him flooded her. It was still such a novelty, even after being engaged for two months. He squeezed her hand, and then withdrew to take the tablet. She reached down to the floor.

“I brought water,” she said, holding out the glass. He took it, and swallowed down the tablet. He winced. Claire squeezed his hand back. She took the glass and set it down. 

“It should kick in soon.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, laying himself back down.

“Does it still hurt lots?”

“Mmhm.” Justin reached out his free hand. She squeezed it. 

“I’ve been praying for you,” Claire said. He nodded his thanks, made awkward by the wrap. Oh, she wanted to hug him. She wanted to pull him close and press a get-better kiss to his cheeks like she did to her littlest sister, she ached to run her fingers through his blond hair, to snuggle in. He was doing better, but there was still a fleck of pain in his eyes. It felt like a knife to the heart. It was funny, wasn’t it, how God had given them the ability to feel another’s pain. An odd blessing. A good curse. 

“Claire,” he said, and her heart skipped. He looked right at her. She gave him her best smile, full of teeth, scrunching her eyes and nose. A strange noise growled in his throat. His swollen cheeks coloured. Her skin caught on fire. For a second, she forgot how to breathe. Her insides came undone. 

“What is it?” she asked, trying to stay steady, heart catching in her throat. That  noise.  She wanted him. She wanted him to make that sound again.  Why? If it was a sound of pain, it was bad - she didn’t want him to be in pain. Of course not. Had it been pain? Or - or - ? 

“Claire,” he said, and she lost her breath. “C’mere.” She froze. She wanted to melt. She couldn’t think.  _Claire. C’mere. Claire. C’mere_.  _That_ tone,  _that_ voice.  She’d never heard him like that. Even when he was very tired. Her body screamed for her to move closer. Her mind struggled.  _What does - God - really - what should - Bible - God - Justin - Justin - Justin._

Justin. It was that simple, wasn’t it?

“Please,” he said throatily. Claire felt close to bursting. She could not resist. She just couldn’t. The way he was looking at her - she couldn’t. The way he said her name. She had to be with him. Beside him. 

She checked that there was no chance of knocking anything, and again the door. Then, carefully, gently, she laid down on her side. Claire was careful not to touch him, not to lean too close. She rolled herself, and they ended up face-to-face, her head propped up on her hand. This was bad. And wrong. Really bad. She had to get up, had to call for someone to come intervene. But it felt so...normal. Natural. Like she should’ve spent every night like this, gazing into his eyes, bodies only inches apart, sharing a mattress and maybe a pillow or a blanket. She could feel his breath on her face. He looked right at her. Her heart hitched. More than anything, she ached to close the gap. To move closer. To hold him. To run her fingers over his shoulderblades, to feel his stomach against hers. She wanted to kiss him. To kiss him and never stop. They were all bad thoughts, impure thoughts - she would need to pray later. Later. Not now.

“Is this better?” she asked, breathless. He mumbled his assent.

“Claire,” he murmured, words all cotton-candy. 

“Justin,” she said. It was difficult not to whine. Why could they not get married today? At this moment? Why wait for cameras and a dress and the relatives to fly in? She wanted him  now.  But she couldn’t, she couldn’t. It took every ounce of training, of self-control to restrain herself. She only relented in touching his hair. Stroking it. He shut his eyes. Soon. Soon. Only a few more weeks. Their feet touched. She dragged her toes across the curve of his foot. He put his feet on either side of hers and squeezed lightly. She slid her other leg between his. They were entwined. It was wrong. Tempting. Sinful. A path to wrong-doing. She wouldn’t let go. She could feel the curves of the muscles in his legs and the bones in his ankles. She could feel  _him_ ,  perfectly made.

“I love you, Justin,” she whispered, curling his fingers against his temple. “I can’t wait to marry you.” They could lay like this properly, then. They could cuddle every night. She could kiss him. 

“I love you,” he mumbled. Claire watched his breathing even out as he fell into another sleep. His legs grew heavy against hers. A knot grew between his brows. She wanted to kiss it. Just on the forehead. Nothing scandalous, nothing tempting. The same way you’d kiss a baby. Just to comfort him.

Claire sighed, shutting her eyes. If you saw something that caused you to sin, then you should not see. Soon, she could see as much as she liked. Soon.

Just a few more weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never had my wisdom teeth removed nor I don’t know anyone who has, so hopefully the recovery isn’t terribly inaccurate!!


End file.
